


Sightless

by EverythingIsNumbers



Category: BlazBlue
Genre: Blindness, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingIsNumbers/pseuds/EverythingIsNumbers
Summary: Tsubaki ends up trapped in a cell in Sector Seven after losing her sight to the Izayoi and allowing Jin to die. While awaiting interrogation, Makoto comes to see her and reveals that she's been a double agent all along. They make amends with one another, and it escalates into lovemaking.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Barcrawler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcrawler/gifts).



> [Look, my asshole friends narrated it if you prefer your smut in audiobook format](https://soundcloud.com/user-463725775/sightless-konrads-hot-hot-animoo-fighting-game-fanfic/s-y9Ahe)

One thought replayed itself over and over again in Tsubaki’s mind: she had failed.

It had only been a handful of hours since the fight, but it felt like centuries. She had tapped into every last reserve of strength that she had, calling on Izayoi’s power. She had gone past her limit, and it hadn’t been enough.

And now, here she was. Stuck in a cell in the headquarters of the infamous Sector Seven, awaiting interrogation, without the weapon that was her namesake and birthright. Good riddance too, she thought bitterly. It had consumed every last bit of her strength, but not before taking her vision, just as Jin warned her it would.

Now, without eyesight, in a silent room, Tsubaki was utterly alone with her thoughts. She lay sprawled out on the wall-mounted cot that they had left for her, unable to summon the motivation to sit up.

 

A noise yanked her out of her stupor. Approaching footsteps, two sets. One lumbering and ground-shakingly heavy, the other scuttling to keep up. Tsubaki kept her eyes closed and remained motionless. The footsteps halted outside her cell.

“Hell, Tager, I’m sorry I doubted you. You really did capture the NOL bitch.”

“Please, hold your congratulations. Capture is too strong a word. I merely collected her from the rubble.”

“Still. This’ll be a thorn out of our side. Good work, as always.”

“You’re too quick to praise, Kokonoe. She poses no threat to us any longer. When I found her, she had already been drained and blinded by that weapon she carries.”

“Ah. Should’ve known. Knights usually hiss and spit when they get captured.” Tsubaki heard the bars of her cell rattle.

“Hey! You alive in there? Earth to the NOL lapdog.” 

Tsubaki didn’t dignify this with a response.

“HEY! I’m talking to you! Red hair? Stupid hat? You, the one who just let Major Jin Kisaragi die? Ring any bells?”

Tager heaved a sigh.

“Kokonoe...”

“Hah! There, you see that? I made her mad.” Tsubaki was gritting her teeth, trying not to let her anger show. “Good enough for me. We’ll send someone in to interrogate her when she’s good and restless. Come on.”

Tsubaki slowly willed herself to unclench her fists, and when she heard their footsteps fade she blinked the tears from her eyes.

_ Fine _ she thought.  _ Let them try. _

 

Hours crawled by before Tsubaki heard the next set of footsteps stop outside her cell. She hadn’t moved since those two had paid her a visit. Whoever this was, she wouldn’t move for them either. There was no point.

And then she heard the clank of the key in the lock, and listened as her visitor carefully stepped into the cell and locked the door. More silence ensued, but now the visitor was close enough that Tsubaki could hear breathing. It was uneven, anxious. Still, she wasn’t about to speak first. She waited.

Her interrogator cleared her throat.

“Tsu, it’s me.” It was Makoto’s voice. Uncharacteristically soft and shaky, but Makoto’s unmistakably. This finally broke Tsubaki’s lethargic spell.

She sat bolt upright and tried to rise to her feet, but it was surprisingly difficult without the aid of her eyesight. She managed to stand, but nearly lost her balance before Makoto took her by the shoulders and steadied her. When she removed her hands, Tsubaki was left with a sudden feeling of vertigo, unable to orient herself.

“Makoto? What are you doing here?”

“I got word we captured you. I had to come see you. Make sure you were alright.” Makoto took a deep breath. “...are you alright?”

Tsubaki stood silent, her head a stew of confused thoughts. She tried to process what Makoto was saying. Her shoulders slumped.

“No. No I’m not alright.” She said coldly. “I’m blind, Jin is dead, and now you’re telling me you’re working with Sector Seven?” Tsubaki’s voice cracked. She paused to remind herself to keep her emotions in check. To remember her training. “I don’t believe it.”

“I… what do you mean you don’t believe it?”

“I don’t believe that you’re working with Sector Seven.” She stated bluntly. “I don’t believe you’re the real Makoto. I think this is a trick.”

There was a confused pause.

“You think we’re trying to…”

“Trick me by using the voice of one of my best friends? Yes. I do think so.” Tsubaki carefully patted around behind her until she located the cot, and sat down, crossing her legs and straightening her back. “If you want information, you’ll need to find another way to get it out of me.”

“Tsubaki.” Makoto’s voice was serious. “It’s me. Please, at least hear me out.”

“I may be blind, and I may have failed my mission, but I am not stupid.”

“If I can prove to you it’s me, will you promise me that you’ll listen to what Sector Seven has to say?”

A denial formed on Tsubaki’s lips, but then something stopped it. Maybe it was everything she had been through in the last few months. Snide condescension from Captain Hazama, orders from the Imperator that made no sense. She had spent many sleepless nights shedding tears for the things that her vows were forcing her to do. During all that, not once had she allowed herself to believe that there were alternative paths.

Makoto and Noel were the first, and perhaps only people she had ever fully trusted. If this was truly Makoto in front of her, and Makoto truly believed in Sector Seven, then part of her wanted to give it a chance. After all, the only reason she had to believe Sector Seven was evil was the word of the Imperator. And the word of the imperator had only led her to failure and heartbreak.

“Fine.” Tsubaki said, and waited. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but Makoto seemed to have some idea. She took both of Tsubaki’s hands in her own and gave them a reassuring squeeze. The gesture was simple but it stirred something inside of Tsubaki. Even through the thick leather gloves of her NOL uniform, the touch brought back memories. Memories of a time when her hands knew more than the haft of her weapon.

“It’s okay. It’s me, see?” It was a far cry from proof. But Tsubaki believed her. Even without her sight, she found some inexplicable sense that told her that this was Makoto. Maybe it was something about the feel of her skin, about the way she was breathing. Makoto loosened her grip and began to withdraw her hands, but Tsubaki held fast, gripping them desperately as if they were a lifeline.

“Easy, easy. I’m not going anywhere. Scoot back.” Makoto caressed her reassuringly before letting go. Then Makoto placed her hands on Tsubaki’s hips and gently nudged her backwards. She felt the bed shift as Makoto sat down in front of her, between her legs.

Tsubaki found Makoto’s tail resting in her lap, and before she could think of manners or protocol, had grabbed it in both hands. She stroked it as if to reassure herself that it was really there. Though she had seldom touched it before, it was exactly as she imagined it: pert, plump, and fluffy, practically an extra pillow. It was proof enough for her; this was Makoto. She stopped to remove her gloves, and then resumed the petting.

“There.” Makoto said, amusement and satisfaction in her voice. “This is much better reunion.” Tsubaki nodded her agreement, and nuzzled her face against Makoto’s tail, sniffing loudly. Giddy with relief, she spoke without thinking.

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted to do this when we were roommates?”

“Hmm? Do what?”

“Touch your tail.”

“...come again?” Makoto was taken aback. She craned her neck around to look at Tsubaki, who was cracking a lopsided smile, her eyes half closed. She nodded in response. The expression could not have been more out of place on the NOL agent’s face.

“ _ You? _ ”

“Yes! And it’s exactly as fluffy as I imagined it would be.”

“Geez...” Makoto sighed. “What did you think would have happened if you just asked? We’re friends, I’d have let you touch it.” Tsubaki shook her head, but her smile didn’t vanish.

“Do you think I’d have let myself? I wasn’t scared of you saying no. I was more afraid of how I would judge myself.”

Makoto considered this. Tsubaki was the only daughter of the Yayoi family. She was the top student in every single class. For the time she was there, she was the posterchild of the NOL academy. An ideal, straight-backed, dutiful soldier.

“You always did keep us at arm’s length”

“I wanted to be proper. I wanted to be independent and strong. The Yayoi family has no need of a daughter who pines for the affection of her peers, like an airheaded schoolgirl. Especially a beastkin. No offense meant.”

Makoto bore a thoughtful expression.

“That explains a lot. You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Yeah. I know.” Tsubaki said, still calmly running her hands over Makoto’s tail. She didn’t seem quite as tense now, Makoto noticed. In fact, it was as though a wall had been broken down. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen Tsubaki this mellow. Maybe it was just that she had gotten something off her chest.

“So, Tsu, anything else you were afraid to ask me?”

“Uhm… yes.” Tsubaki mumbled. She stopped petting her tail, and began to fidget. Makoto perked up. When Tsubaki continued, Makoto could practically feel her embarrassment. “Your… ears.”

“If you want to touch my ears, knock yourself out.” A moment’s hesitation passed, and then Tsubaki’s hands moved from Makoto’s tail to her head. They began massaging her beastkin ears. Makoto closed her eyes.

“Tsubaki?”

“Yes?”

“More scratch. Less rub.”

“Um, yes! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Can you go a little lower?”

“Of course, yes”

Makoto leaned her head back to get a better angle for the scratching, in a way that reminded Tsubaki of the dormitory cats. It was another pleasant memory suddenly dredged to the forefront of her mind.

“Makoto?”

“The answer is yes.”

“I haven’t asked a question.”

“You’re about to ask if you can do something really benign that I’m not gonna mind at all.”

Tsubaki was silent.

“Was I right? What were you about to ask?” Makoto opened one eye.

“Can I hug you?” Tsubaki’s tone was a little put out. Makoto cackled.

“The answer is yes.” She said, and with a parting scratch, Tsubaki’s hands left Makoto’s head and wrapped themselves around her midriff. She tightened her legs against her friend, rested her chin on her shoulder, and then gave a start. She started patting Makoto down as if checking for weapons. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“What on  _ earth _ are you wearing?” Tsubaki demanded. Her tone was scolding, reminding Makoto of the lectures Tsubaki had given her for coming back to their dorm too late. Makoto floundered for a conversational moment before realizing what she was talking about.

“Oh, this? The Sector made this outfit just for me. Helps me move around freely.”

“You’re practically naked!” Tsubaki withdrew her hands, as if Makoto was now untouchable. “God, this must look so…”

“Actually, I’m kinda sad you can’t see it.” Makoto interrupted. “It’s probably the best looking thing I’ve ever worn.”

“We have very different definitions of what constitutes good looking.”

“Right. You’re really into wearing shapeless sacks.”

“For the last time, my NOL uniform is not a sack!”

“We can agree to disagree. But hey, give this a chance.” At this, Tsubaki laughed dryly.

“I’m blind now, Makoto. If I could see what you were wearing I’d give you my honest opinion. I’ll have to imagine it.”

“Why don’t you look with your hands instead?” Before she could respond, Makoto had taken Tsubaki’s hands and planted them on her hips. Tsubaki froze.

“It’s nice material, honest. Feel it.” Makoto prompted. Tsubaki nervously obliged, and felt around to try to get a mental picture of the garment. It was a short skirt with a deep slit on either side exposing, unsurprisingly, a scandalous amount of bare thigh. The material was soft to the touch, but the weave suggested durability. Exploring downwards, she found garters that held up stockings made of a durable, warm material. Tsubaki smoothed the skirt over Makoto’s lap before sheepishly removing her hands.

“It’s… very nice.” She said, pulling her face back out of fear that Makoto would somehow notice her blushing.

“Isn’t it? Check out the top half.” Makoto said. Tsubaki’s hands were once again seized and this time deposited directly on Makoto’s chest, spurred into a playful squeeze by her guiding hands. Tsubaki squeaked in surprise.

“You’re… spilling out the bottom.” Tsubaki remarked.

“Oh. Yeah, just a little.”

Tsubaki continued feeling her way along the garment, face getting hotter all the while. Painfully embarrassed, Tsubaki could sense silence amusement from her companion. Tsubaki flinched when Makoto shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning back against her.

“Hey Tsu, I’m gonna ask again. Anything else you wanted to ask me?”

“I…” Tsubaki hesitated.

“Come on, I won’t judge.”

“I’m already doing it.” She admitted quietly. Makoto craned her neck, presumably to get a look at Tsubaki. She held the position for longer than was comfortable. Tsubaki’s face went crimson as she realized her friend was staring at her, and she aimed her head away self consciously, removing her hands.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, “That was… inappropriate of me.”

“No, nononono, no. Don’t be sorry.” Makoto’s tone was abruptly apologetic. She paused, a phrase forming on her tongue. “So… you wanted to…” she hesitated. “What, exactly?”

“I… I don’t know exactly. Just… hold you I guess. Share a bed. Maybe… something else.”

“ _ You, _ Tsubaki?”

“Yeah.” She smiled with embarrassment. Makoto gave a bemused laugh.

“Honestly, I never would have guessed. If that was ever something you wanted, you did a good job hiding it.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry I’m telling you this now.”

Makoto stood up, and Tsubaki trailed off. She had gotten comfortable with Makoto sitting in her lap. Without her, things just felt… cold. She petered off as Makoto disappeared from her limited sensory range.

“Wait…” she began in a suddenly desperate tone. Then Makoto’s hands returned, nudged her until she was lying face up on the side of the cot. Tsubaki immediately tried to rise, but Makoto stopped her by crawling in beside her, laying on her side and leaning against her. Tsubaki stammered to a stop.

“I’m here now.” Makoto said simply, and wrapped her arms around her friend. “You can hold me, and we can share a bed, and maybe something else.”

Tsubaki’s hand found Makoto’s, and she squeezed it tightly. It seemed to suffice as a response. Makoto held her a few moments longer and then pushed herself up and hoisted a leg over to straddle Tsubaki. She sat back, resting on Tsubaki’s hips for a moment, and made some motion that Tsubaki could not decipher before leaning forward to lay directly on top of her, tucking her arms underneath her in a tight embrace.

Tsubaki wove her arms back over Makoto’s back, and immediately noticed something was missing. It was the top half of Makoto’s outfit. She ran her hands along her friend’s back, and found only smooth skin over toned muscle. Makoto made a triumphant hum, sensing Tsubaki’s realization. Then she propped herself up on her elbows and guided one of Tsubaki’s hands to her left breast.

Tsubaki’s hands were nervous and clumsy as they explored. Makoto was much more than a handful; soft and welcoming with skin that radiated warmth. She found herself lost in the sensation. She worked a thumb over Makoto’s nipple, which was pert from the cold of the cell. With each minute motion she could feel Makoto shift her weight around, leaning into her touch. She ran her other hand up and down Makoto’s side, riding the curve from hip to waist and then to bust and back again. 

Makoto emanated excitement, and it felt as though Tsubaki’s hands were welcome everywhere they went. Eventually she shivered and pulled Makoto down, wrapping her arms around her and siphoning up some of her inexhaustible warmth. Makoto nuzzled her face into Tsubaki’s neck.

“You’re warm” Tsubaki said.

“I’m always warm.”

“Is that why you’re always as naked as possible?”

Makoto nodded, or rather rubbed her forehead against Tsubaki’s shoulder.

“One of the reasons, yeah.”

Tsubaki lay motionless for a second, furrowing her brow in thought. She had lost her gloves, but was still clad head to toe in her NOL garb, complete with hat and cloak.

“Maybe I should…” she hesitated. “Maybe I should lose some layers.” At this, Makoto’s ears perked up, brushing Tsubaki’s cheek. She sat up again, once again straddling her friend.

“I can help! Will you let me?” Makoto leaned forward, and Tsubaki was sure she could hear her tail twitching in excitement. She nodded, feeling heat rise to her face once again. 

It was surreal; Makoto was here, on top of her, getting excited to take her clothes off. It was the sort of fantasy that Tsubaki would have shooed out of her mind in her academy days for being too ridiculous.

Tsubaki turned her face away as she sprawled on the cot. She could hear her heart beating in her ears as Makoto unfastened the heavy kidney belt that was the lynchpin of her NOL uniform, and started working on undoing the large brass buttons, top to bottom. She was having some trouble.

“There are… more clothes under your clothes.”

“Yes. Yes, Makoto, there are.” Tsubaki was bemused. “You didn’t think I walked around naked underneath the overcoat, did you?”

“Well, I know I always did.”

“Of  _ course _ you did.”

Makoto managed to unbutton Tsubaki’s overcoat, and pulled it down around her waist. Then she started working on removing the padded shirt that she had on underneath. Tsubaki called it a Gambeson.

“I’ve never even  _ heard  _ of a Gambeson. Why are you wearing this? It looks uncomfortable.”

“To protect myself from blunt force.” Tsubaki said defensively. “It just buttons down the front. It’s not that hard.”

“You’re wearing  _ more _ clothes underneath!”

“It’s only a camisole!”

“This can’t be healthy. You’d better not be wearing anything else.”

“I’m… not.” Tsubaki said, blushing. She felt Makoto’s hands reach down to her waist and pull the hem of her camisole upwards, just above her bust.

“You lied.”

“Bras don’t count as clothes!”

“How are you not constantly overheating?”

“I’m not a walking furnace!”

“This is all coming off.”

Makoto tugged Tsubaki out of her uniform, a process that involved tutorials on various types of buckles and clasps, and explanations as to why any given article of clothing was necessary. When she finished, her uniform lay in a very large pile by the side of the cot, and she lay nervously underneath Makoto wearing a bra and a modest pair of bloomers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much of your skin,” Makoto remarked, “and we lived together for what? Two years?”

Tsubaki said nothing. She was painfully aware of the state of her skin. The years since she had left the academy had not been easy on her. She was covered in cuts and bruises, all in various states of healing. Her once smooth skin was pocked with scars earned on many difficult NOL missions, under the will of the imperator. Thinking back to the smoothness of Makoto’s skin, she felt miserably self-conscious.

Makoto nudged her onto her side, and then curled up against her back, playing the big spoon. The position was new to Tsubaki. The first thing she noticed was that there was an obscene amount of skin-on-skin contact. Somewhere in the process, Makoto had removed the rest of her uniform, and was now curling her legs around Tsubaki’s.

Self conscious as she was, Tsubaki appreciated the warmth that Makoto was supplying. If it weren’t for her, Tsubaki would probably be shivering in the cold of the cell. She let Makoto press herself against her. 

Makoto’s hand brushed against her side, following the curve of her hips across her belly and tucking itself nearly around her. Her other arm wrapped itself over her chest and squeezed her tightly. Even her hands were warm.

Makoto loosened her embrace, and her hands resumed their teasing exploration. A nervous wave of tension followed Makoto’s hand as she gently explored down to her hip, her thigh, back along her waist, all the way to her shoulder. Tsubaki could feel the roughness of her scarred skin, but it didn’t seem to deter Makoto at all.

Makoto pulled away from Tsubaki’s upper back, and undid the hook of her bra with one deft motion. Tsubaki slid the straps down and deposited the garment on the floor with the rest of her uniform. She shivered, and leaned back into Makoto’s waiting embrace. Yes, there was indeed a lot of skin on skin contact going on here. Tsubaki hunched her shoulders forwards, shielding her bare breasts from nonexistent observers.

Makoto’s hands returned, sliding up the curve of her breasts and cupping them with a willing sort of reverence. She scrunched her eyes as Makoto squeezed, and kneaded them gently with her palms, making obnoxious little humming noises all the while. This continued long enough for Tsubaki to realize that she was holding her breath, and to force herself to breathe steadily.

Not that this was easy. She could feel Makoto shifting slightly behind her, wiggling her hips steadily with the rhythm she was creating. With their legs intertwined, she could feel Makoto stretch out her toes, like a cat after a long nap.

And then one of Makoto’s hands departed, and made its way downwards. 

_ She can’t be, _ Tsubaki thought.

Makoto’s hand moved deliberately, past her ribs, over her stomach, and down to the waistband of her bloomers. She worked the tips of her fingers under the band, and stopped. Tsubaki was rigid with nervousness. She heard the parting of Makoto’s lips behind her, and the intake of breath before she spoke.

“Is… is this okay?” Makoto asked in an uncharacteristically uncertain tone. Tsubaki couldn’t seem to verbalize a response. She felt herself redden more, and as the silence stretched felt Makoto begin to withdraw her hand. Tsubaki didn’t want her to stop. Wordlessly, she placed a hand on Makoto’s arm, and nudged it ever so slightly downwards. Makoto hummed in relieved satisfaction, and with her other hand gave Tsubaki a tight squeeze before venturing into what was, for Tsubaki, completely uncharted territory.

Breathing was suddenly difficult. Tsubaki found herself gripping the sides of the cot as Makoto’s fingers went to work. Slowly at first, almost teasingly, advancing deeper only when Tsubaki felt the rhythm. Her entire body was tense, her legs were clamped together, and she felt a complete slave to Makoto’s touch. 

When the feeling was really starting to build, Makoto suddenly removed her fingers, and Tsubaki stifled a small whimper, quivering and unsatisfied. She fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to vocalize a question, suddenly unable to bring words to mind. Makoto pulled away, and nudged Tsubaki onto her back. Her fingers were slick where they had been inside her.

And then Makoto crawled back, grabbed her bloomers by the waistband, and pulled them over Tsubaki’s clamped-together legs. Now completely naked, blind, and giddy from the surreal situation, she started to shiver. Makoto nudged her legs apart and with a great deal of effort, Tsubaki struggled to oblige, and then gasped audibly when she felt the ends of Makoto’s ears and the thick locks of her hair brush against the insides of her thighs and travel their length forwards.

Tsubaki’s mind was a perfect cloud as Makoto worked magic with her tongue. She let her thighs close around Makoto’s head, shuddering at the feel of everything about her. Makoto’s hands rested on Tsubaki’s hips, as if to steady her.

The feeling grew and grew, until Tsubaki thought her mind might shut down from the sensation, and then it peaked. She convulsed, head reeling and muscles twitching. Gripping the sides of the cot, she held her breath until the feeling passed and settled into exhaustion. Then, with a whimper, she loosened her thighs.

Tsubaki could hear Makoto panting when she came up for air. Once again she rolled Tsubaki onto her side and took up her position as big spoon, pressing herself along Tsubaki’s back and returning welcome warmth to her. She let herself rest limply as Makoto re-entwined their legs and re-introduced her hands.

“Was it good?” She asked playfully. Tsubaki only murmured contentedly in response. Makoto laughed, and bent into kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Tsubaki lay in content stupor as Makoto’s hands ran their warmth all over her. The touch didn’t seem so indecent to her any more. It didn’t seem anything but comforting.

So comforting that, despite her sudden drowsiness, she almost didn’t notice when one of Makoto’s hands departed. She pulled herself out of her stupor long enough to feel one of Makoto’s fingers brush her backside.

She craned her neck as if to get a better look; a behavioral vestige of her lost sight. But the conclusion came to her anyways. Makoto’s right hand was wrapped around her, caressing one of her breasts, while her left was busy administering a more acute sense of pleasure. Tsubaki’s heart started to pound again. She cleared her throat and spoke.

“Are you--”

“Feeling you up while touching myself?” Makoto finished shamelessly, ‘Yes.”

Just like that, the feeling was re-ignited in Tsubaki. Her mouth moved faster than her mind.

“Unacceptable.” She said, in the same scolding tone she had always used when she was the dorm master. Makoto’s hand stopped abruptly.

“If you want me to stop I’ll--”

“It’s unacceptable that you wouldn’t at least let me try to return the favour.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Tsubaki’s expression broke into an uncharacteristic smile. She blindly extended an arm until her open palm came to rest on Makoto’s belly. From there, she slid her hand downwards, giving rise to a wave of tension from Makoto, until her fingers found their mark between her thighs.

“Now,” Tsubaki said softly, “tell me how to start.”

Tsubaki worked her fingers blindly, guided by moans of pleasure from Makoto. Even without sight, she could feel the sensation building with every motion that Makoto made. They fell into a divine rhythm, Makoto engrossed in the pleasure, and Tsubaki engrossed in Makoto herself. The smell of her breath, the arch of her spine, the press of her thighs, everything about her was intoxicating.

When Makoto’s breathing became more intense and the rhythm began to gather itself, Tsubaki emulated her friend by pulling her hand away early, causing Makoto to shiver with the sudden halt.

“Oh you…” Makoto moaned. “You tease.”

She let Tsubaki to roll her onto her back, and parted her legs, just as Tsubaki had done for her. Forcing herself to remain still, she felt Tsubaki’s hair brush her inner thigh as she leaned in to return the favour.

Makoto’s tail was spread pillow-like between her legs, and as Tsubaki bent in to do the deed, pressed herself against it, reveling in the sensation of soft, warm fur on bare skin. As Tsubaki worked her tongue, Makoto could feel the press of her whole body, stiff with concentration, shaking from cold and nervousness.

When Tsubaki’s tongue finally dredged up the rhythm they had earlier, it was nothing short of sensory overload for Makoto. She climbed the mountain, not bothering to stifle herself at all. The more she moaned, the more confident Tsubaki became in her motions.

Ultimately, Makoto was rendered speechless when her eyes rolled back and she reached climax. For a moment, the world stood still, and her mind was perfectly adrift. She laid her head back and listened to the thumping of her heart as the feeling faded.

Now exhausted, Tsubaki crawled up and collapsed atop Makoto. 

“Was it good?” She asked coyly. In response, Makoto pulled her face in close and kissed her squarely on the mouth. It was the worst tasting kiss Tsubaki ever had. She pulled away with a grimace halfway through, much to Makoto’s amusement.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s all sweaty.” She swallowed, her expression slowly returning to normal. Then she lowered her head onto Makoto’s chest and laid her arms against her sides. “This is nice, though.”

Makoto stroked her hair, looking thoughtfully into Tsubaki’s sightless eyes.

“Yeah. This is.”

 

They were absorbed enough with each other that neither noticed Tager’s ill-concealed approach until he was just outside the cell. 

“Agent Nanaya.” His voice was flat, but still carried the gravitas of a hulking monster. Makoto was suddenly bolt upright, and Tsubaki was pulled to her feet, stark naked and shivering in the frigid air of the cell.

“Tager! It’s not what it looks like! I was just--”

“I don’t want to know.” Tager said bluntly. He grunted. “I’ll give you both five minutes to get dressed. Then it’s time for me to interrogate the prisoner.”

There was a pause.

“Of course.” Makoto said. “And we’ll never speak of this again, right?”

Tager sighed.

“I will omit it from my report, agent Nanaya.”

Makoto got her clothes back on in a handful of seconds, and then started to help Tsubaki into hers. It was a haphazard job, and they eschewed the gambeson and other bits of gear. 

Tsubaki was mortified. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Makoto informed her that Tager had turned around while they changed, but it didn’t change much. He had still seen them naked together. It made her realize that this was no longer a foolish daydream or a secret desire. She and Makoto had shared something special.

When they deemed her decent, Makoto said a quick goodbye, giving Tsubaki a small parting hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a promise that everything would be okay. Tager re-entered the cell, and Tsubaki sat silently on the cot as she listened to him close the door and hunker down on some piece of furniture opposite her. There was a rustling of paper.

“So.” Tager’s booming voice began. “Agent Tsubaki Yayoi. Your allegiance lies with the Novus Orbis Librarium, correct?”

Tsubaki stirred at the question. She thought of her training. She thought of discipline, of orders. She thought of the sense of obedience with which they had poisoned her. Mostly, she thought of Makoto, Noel, and Jin. 

“Fuck the Librarium.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a challenge from a friend I regularly play Blazblue with. He wrote terrific Tsubaki/Taokaka fanfic in exchange.
> 
> I suppose this is my first time writing actual, non-ironic smut. Most likely my last as well. I hope you enjoyed reading it more than I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
